


A Masked Kiss

by minjazmin



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Assassin AU, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, First Meetings, Fluff, Hannibal getting horny over the thought of Will's kills, Male!Mischa, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Running Away Together, fem!Hannibal, fem!will, so many pet names
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 21:42:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30061965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minjazmin/pseuds/minjazmin
Summary: “We have reason to believe they are paid assassinations all by the same person.”The recognition she deserved was much more than just monetary, Hannibal wanted to cover her in praise for the beauty of her brutality.***Hannibal is a royal heir who wishes for freedom and escape.Will is a new assassin who wishes for comfort and security.They find each other
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Kudos: 23
Collections: Hannibal Flashfic #009





	A Masked Kiss

As the bell rang out, signaling the dawn of the new day, the gloved finger pressed the knife against the man’s throat. Rivulets of red poured, and then came the sea. Blood painted the man’s white attire. Her masked face looked at him for only long enough to know there was no hope of recovery before dashing away. Between the gold of his mask, she watched as all his greed and his pride and his wrath did nothing to save him now. 

The half-light of the hall, the streaming confetti, the songs, and the dances gave her time. But would it be time enough? 

She threw off her gloves as she went; the only part of her which had been stained crimson. Then finally she was able to hike up the layers of her skirt and run. Without looking back, she made her way through the winding corridors. The map memorized in her head as a perfect iteration. On the fourth floor, she finally made it to the door which was highlighted in her mind. A steady hand rested against the door for a moment, finally allowing herself to breathe and to think of what she had done.

Cheers of joy morphed into rapturous screams; the body had been found.

The doorknob clicked open in her hand. The moonlight pouring through the window signaled her means of escape.

“ _ If  _ _ I _ _ were you, I wouldn’t go that way _ .”

A lilting voice in a harsh whisper stopped Will in her tracks. Crisp Lithuanian that she had to really concentrate on in order to understand.

“ _ If you continue down to the third door on the left, the window has a perfect balcony by which to climb down. Even when you are so... Inappropriately dressed for such an occasion _ .”

“ _ Do you speak English _ ?”

The woman let out a hearty chuckle that caused Will’s pace to quicken before then repeating what she had just said in English and adding “It is not great to not know Lithuanian while in Lithuania, my dear.”

She looked down to her attire; the flouncy yellow fabric that dug into her waist and hips uncomfortably. The jewels around her neck were not her own. The pins in her hair were faltering with the effort of trying to hold up her dark, curled locks. Comparatively, the way she held herself, in her dress, in her blood, in everything she did, showed the woman before her belonged. However, dark regal eyes seemed content with their gaze upon the intruder.

“Why are you telling me all that?”

“It’s my room, it was the perfect place to sneak out and play in the forest when Mischa and I were children.”

“No, I mean why are you helping me when you know what I... have done?” Will couldn’t help the way her voice wavered as she spoke. 

A manicured hand made its way up the too-silky fabric that covered Will’s arm, not stopping until it was resting at her masked cheek. Leaning up and pressing red lips against the porcelain cheek, Will was glad that her cheeks were covered so the blush that was coming over her would go unnoticed. The vibrant lips of the other woman were ghosting the shell of Will’s ear.

“Call it a partial payment for what you are due.”

Through the eyeholes of the mask, the woman must have been able to see the way Will’s eyes narrowed in confusion. The teasing giggle which left her sent a wave of anxiety – butterflies – fluttering in Will’s stomach.

“You know just who I am, darling. And you know what you did, so put together the clues.”

Will met the dark eyes which were shrouded in a bespoke golden mask for the first time since they had begun talking. There was amusement. There was joy. There was __ gratitude.

“What is your name?”

“Is it really wise for me to tell you?” Will asked, betrayed by the ways her eyes dilated as she watched the woman’s tongue wet her crimson lips. The color was so unique and so perfect upon her skin. The color was that of death and pain, and on the other woman’s lips, Will wanted to lap it up.

“Well, you know mine, don’t you? Isn’t it only fair I know yours too?” 

“Will, call me Will.”

***

“ _ Count Lecter. Countess. I hope you are well despite all that has happened. I am so sorry for your loss, my Lady. _ ”

Hannibal pulled a handkerchief to her eye and dabbed at it; when she pulled it away there were no remnants of a tear. If anyone saw, they did not mention it.

“ _ Thank you, we are holding up well. Do you have any news which you must retell? _ ” Mischa asked, shooting his sister a knowing look. 

“ _ Another killing has taken place. An assassination _ ,” The attendant hushed his tone as he leaned closer to Mischa, Hannibal turned away to pretend it was too much for her to bear. “ _ Užmaskuotas  _ _ Bučinys _ _ has struck again _ .”

“ _ Give me the details, kind sir, _ ” The man's eyes flitted between the Count and his sister beside him. “ _ My sister is more than capable of hearing the grizzly details. Go ahead. Please _ .”

“ _ Are you quite certain?” _

_ “Go on,”  _ Mischa sighed _. “Before I must ask another attendant to take your place.” _

_ “Sir Algis Dionizas was strung from a tree. Hanged by the very belt he wore around his waist; the family crest on its buckle dug into his throat.” _

Hannibal closed her eyes as she imagined what the man described. The gown which had been adorned by the dark-haired girl was undoubtedly worn only as a disguise; the way in which she had fiddled with corset told Hannibal as much.  So, what would her girl wear instead for such a venture? 

The shirt which Will wore was too large, tucked and bunching in the waistband of borrowed trousers to give the illusion of a larger stature. The faint suggestion of collar bones protruded from beneath the low-cut collar. A cloak the  color of midnight hid her from the world. Against such a dark backdrop, the creamy-white of the porcelain mask positively glowed. Hardy, leather boots had been left at the man’s door; soft, socked feet tiptoed through the house towards their target. 

Firm hands, which were no longer trembling, wrapped the thick leather around the man’s pathetic throat and pulled. Relentless in their efforts. The platinum digging in and cutting harshly. Not enough to kill him; he would suffer through until it was complete. There was no one else home; no one who loved him or cared. No one to miss his sickening voice or his smarmy grin. 

The last thing the man would see before the life left him was blue eyes filled with contempt and the red-stained kiss upon their porcelain cheek.

The attendant quickly left the siblings; neither said anything about what they had heard until they were alone.

_ “‘Užmaskuotas  _ _ Bučinys _ _ ’? Really? They could not have thought up a better name?”  _ Hannibal spat.

_ “You are offended by the name which they have given a serial murderer? An assassin?”  _

_ “The killings are righteous,”  _ Hannibal spoke with an admiration that had Mischa raising his eyebrows at her. He looked at his sister as if she had made some remark about his new hairstyle, not about the spate of killings happening in their city. There was more a concern for his and his sister’s own safety than a concern for anyone else’s. And a perplexity as to what had his sister so interested.

_ “You and I might be next on the list _ ,” Mischa retorted. “ _ You forget we are nobility.” _

The scoff that left Hannibal was hearty and brash; unimpressed by her  brother's deductions. 

_ “Being nobility is not what got my husband killed, being a bastard did. Think of the harm that he has caused to our people and we have just had to sit back and watch. The others might have been paid assassinations, but he was not. Haven't you noticed where the allegiances of our friend lie? They want to rid the city of corruption; we are not corrupt.”  _

_ “Just because you have everyone else fooled does not mean me and your little "friend” aren’t aware of what a serpent you really are.” _

_ “If I am a serpent, then these victims must be little rodents _ ,” Hannibal said with pride. _ “I rather like serpents. You should get me one Mischa, be a good brother.” _

_ “I’d be a good brother by telling the guards when you sneak out,”  _ Mischa threw back before turning to meet his sister’s sulking gaze.  _ “Don’t pout Hannibal, it’s unattractive.” _

Rouge lips were thrown into a deeper scowl, letting her eyebrows fall too. The contempt in her eyes was real, visceral; softening only when she met her brother’s caring gaze again. A shake of his head and a reprimanding tut did nothing to change the playful venom in Hannibal’s prowling eyes.

***

Hannibal obtained the death report through means which were best left undiscussed. 

The priest’s hands had been nailed to the floor above his head before the life was choked out of him by the rope used to toll the church bells. There were bruises littered across his entire body, but the worst across his stomach and chest. The force of the swings must have been sickening; the man near passing out. But not enough to dull the pain as his breath was taken from him; the ‘Masked Kiss’ would never deny such a foul thing of the end he deserved. The thought of her girl brutalizing him, kneeling over the writhing body and watching in anticipation until the spark in his eye died out, was tantamount to ecstasy.

Hannibal would consider attending church services if that was the sight to which she would be treated to. 

This time she imagined Will had been shrouded all in white; a simple peasant gown unbecoming of her magnificence, but the perfect disguise. The perfect ploy to  entice the priest; what sins would Will have confessed to before committing such a righteous act? God only wished to carry out the justice which her darling had managed.

Feral eyes and bruising fingertips were all Hannibal cared to think about. Everything else was inconsequential in comparison to her girl. The red stain upon the mask’s cheek which marked the perfect girl as her own was burned into her vision and she was content to see nothing else.

***

“ _ Describe it to me _ ,” Mischa barked to the guard before him. 

“ _ Wire was used to choke him, cut him. _ _ The names of twelve missing women were carved into his chest posthumously. He was left hanging from the roof of his home; birds were – p- pecking at his flesh when we found him, _ ” The man stuttered out the words as if he were going to get in trouble for saying them.

Even the guards, the men who were supposed to be the bravest and the strongest of their people, were running scared at the sights which were being left about the city. What a glorious vision her darling was bringing to life. 

Hannibal could only imagine the strength which was concealed within the clothed flesh, underneath a tailored suit of Hannibal’s imagining every muscle was accentuated perfectly. Purple and black. No, red and gold to bring out her piercing eyes. Skilled hands, hands that had done this so many times before wrapped the cord around the wretched man’s throat and pulled. Forcing him down the corridor and watching as his fingers fought vainly against the metallic grip, she stopped only when his limbs ceased their struggle.

The knife came from her toned thigh; a garter tied around it to hold it in place. It made quick work of names which she had burned in her brain. Names she refused to forget and refused to allow this foul being to forget either. His flesh would forever be tainted with what he had done. The deadweight of the man was a grievance, but worth the trouble. Hooking the wire around the chimney, the man dangled limply. An ugly pig floundering in a pathetic display just as he deserved.

Hannibal took her mind from her beautiful wanderings to listen back to the conversation which her brother was having with the guard.

“ _ We have reason to believe they are paid assassinations all by the same person.” _

The recognition she deserved was much more than just monetary, Hannibal wanted to cover her in praise for the beauty of her brutality. 

“ _ This is the seventeenth this month; have you made no headway in your search _ ?” Mischa spat at the guard.

“ _ My Lord, there are no eyewitness accounts... No evidence has been left behind. All we have is the mask and no one can trace where it was purchased from _ .”

Beautiful, clever girl. Her perfect girl.

All Hannibal wanted to do was stain her flesh red with adoration.

The man was dismissed and Hannibal only watched and attempted to contain her smirk, as he and his useless posse filtered out of the hall. 

“ _ Hannibal, you should hide that little smile of yours _ ,” Mischa hissed, cutting through Hannibal’s delightful imaginings. _ “Unless you want everyone to know you are in love _ .”

“ _ No one else dares gaze upon my face long enough to notice, lest I bite,”  _ Hannibal jibed back.

“ _ There is no wondering about the biting; it is more concern about where you might bite them. It’s why you rarely got any suitors _ .”

“ _ Užtilk _ _ po  _ _ galais _ _! _ ” The only sufficient response to her stupid brother and his stupid wit. 

“ _ Such a foul tongue, Hannibal _ .”

“ _ The tongue of a serpent, _ ” Hannibal suggested, letting her grin bare her teeth viscously between her dark lips as she gloated.

***

“ _ We have seen their face. We promise we have all guards at our disposal out on the search, My Lord. Whatever it takes, we will find them _ .”

“ _ Go then, put an end to all this as you should have weeks ago, _ ” Mischa barked in an aggressive tone that sounded wrong on his lips _. _

Concerned eyes bore into Hannibal’s side, but Hannibal refused to meet Mischa’s eyes. Refused to acknowledge that he was watching as the blood drained from her cheeks until she looked pallid and dead compared to the red on her lips. Suddenly the food on her plate sickened her. Her head felt heavy and her breath became labored and uncomfortable in her chest. 

She wasn’t sure when she had got up from her chair, or when she had started running. But she was almost through a passage leading out of the castle before a hand grabbed at her wrist.

“ _ Hannibal, wait _ .”

“ _ Let go of me, Mischa _ .”

“ _ What are you going to do?”  _ Mischa’s tone was rife with understanding and pain, but it made it no more palatable to hear.  _ “What could you possibly do that would actually help her now? _ ”

“ _ Am I supposed to just let her die _ ?” 

‘ _ I’m sorry, Hannibal, I can’t let you go. What if I lose you too? _ ”

“ _ Mischa _ ...” The truth was undigestible.

They met eyes and Hannibal knew that she was all Mischa had. That they had been all the other had ever had since their parents had died. 

A momentary struggle to find the right words ended with a deafening silence. All vigor gone from her,  Hannibal’s head hung low  as she passed Mischa and headed back into the castle. She didn’t stop until she reached her room; sinking upon the sheets to stare into the blackness of the night and think of nothing but what might happen to her darling girl.

***

The shadowed figure stood out against the moonlight that flooded through the arched windows. Akin to fear, Hannibal’s heart flipped. And flipped again once she realized who it was. She had barely slept and wondered if this was not merely some nightmare to taunt her. From beneath the warmth of the bed, Hannibal leaped out of bed and stood beside the figure. Only when she began to speak was Hannibal certain she was real.

“ _ I am sorry _ –,” The voice shook with every syllable; the Lithuanian more broken on her tongue as she panicked. “ _ I don’t know where else to go _ .”

Darkness made it hard for Hannibal to see, but Will’s pale clothes were tarnished. From all she had discovered of Will’s methods, Hannibal knew that she was careful to the last moment. The dying flames of her fireplace were doing their utmost to light the place. Hannibal pretended not to see the patches of wet darkness that littered the woman’s dress.

Something had gone wrong. Something had gone very wrong.

“What happened?” 

The dagger quivered in Will’s hand; her eyes transfixed upon its muddied blade. After a moment of prying, Hannibal was able to take it from her and she quickly moved to drop it in the sink. As she began to fill the bathtub and alight the lamps, she kept a close eye on Will. It wasn’t until Hannibal escorted her through towards the bath that Will even managed to move at all. Pulling the brown robe over her head, Hannibal quickly bundled it up and threw it into the fire. All evidence needed to be taken care of. Stood so bare in only her thin, white chemise, it was easier to see the extent of the damage that Will had suffered. The ache of her jaw made her realize how hard she had been tensing; she would never let anyone do this to Will again. 

“Please take off your undergarments, Will. I need to clean you up.”

Slipping them off revealed her form to Hannibal; as magnificent as she had expected, but every muscle seemed to violently shake and strain with exertion and fear. Lost eyes wandered towards Hannibal’s gaze and a desperate hand reached out for help stepping into the tub. Toned arms quickly hooked themselves around bent knees as Will cuddled into herself. The shivering lessened at the warm water’s touch, but still, her muscles seemed unable to contain their worry.

A soft cloth ran hot water across the fitful muscles, cleaning the wounds that littered her skin. The water began to turn murky as she continued, but she was glad to properly assess the damage to her darling girl now the blood was being washed away. From the cuts she had sustained, it was likely much of the blood was not her own. Thankfully.

The ties which pulled Will’s hair back were easy enough to unknot; Hannibal was quick to wet the locks which were soiled with blood and dirt and sweat and begin working the soap into them. A careful hand rested on Will’s forehead to stop any water from getting into her eyes. Using a jug, Hannibal poured water through Will’s hair until there were no suds left. Gentle fingers carded through the wet curls. At first, it was an attempt to brush them, but then Hannibal couldn’t bear to stop in her comforting. 

“Does that feel better?” Hannibal asked.

Will grabbed the hand that was playing with her hair and pulled it in closer; only stopping once it was gently cupping her cheek. Glimmering eyes turned to meet Hannibal’s gaze; tears on the precipice of falling. As Hannibal used the cloth to wash the last of the blood from her forehead, Will let the tears fall and let herself lean into Hannibal’s touch. 

A gentle finger brushed across one of the bruises upon Will’s face and Hannibal watched as she attempted not to flinch at the contact. Hannibal had been trying to stay placid about the injuries which she had sustained; Will had been trying to play down their severity. But they both knew how fire was beginning to catch hold and burn ceaselessly within the older woman.

“One of the guards found me... They were in my home. I – I had no choice but to stop him.”

“You did what you had to,  _ mylimoji _ , I will keep you safe now you are here. Are you ready to get out?”

Will nodded meekly; her eyes pooled of uncertainty. But she took hold of Hannibal’s hand and let her guide her up and out of the water. Soft towels were quickly draped around her and Hannibal sat her by the fire. It had grown again with the new fuel that Hannibal had provided, and its basking glow kissed beautifully at the sullen features on her darling’s face.

With all of her clothes lost to the fire, Hannibal quickly rummaged her armoire to find a suitable nightdress. A thick material that would be soft against her skin and keep her warm throughout the night. Will nodded at the selection but made no effort to move. The towels and the fireplace were doing their job well and Hannibal couldn’t yet bring herself to move the girl who seemed so content. Sitting across from her on the fur rug, Hannibal too basked in the sweet warmth. A small foot snaked out from beneath the towels and poked Hannibal’s exposed thigh. 

“ _ Thank you, _ ” Will’s voice was quiet and uncertain as it spoke the unfamiliar tongue. Hannibal thought it was adorable.

“ _ Širdele _ _ ,  _ it is beyond a pleasure.”

“I am sorry to have woken you at such an hour.”

“No, I am glad you came to me,” Hannibal replied. “But, I’m afraid there’s only the one bed.”

“Your bed is bigger than most people’s bedrooms,” Will joked, and Hannibal realized it was the first time she had seen her laugh or smile. There had never been a more beautiful sight.

After a short while sat beside the fire, Will quickly  changed into the nightdress and dove under the warmth of Hannibal’s bedsheets. Extinguishing the lanterns around the room, Hannibal watched as Will easily slipped into a much-deserved comfort. Half-lidded eyes finally drooped; a serene peace came over her features as she finally allowed herself to relax. Tired eyes met Hannibal’s protective gaze; she allowed herself to share a small smile with Hannibal as she joined her in the bed. 

Hannibal wanted to pull the girl in closer and never let her go; to hold her closer to her and know that nothing else could come to hurt her. But for  now, she would have to suffice with the proximity to the other side of the bed provided. To have let Hannibal in so close, to allow her to see her and to help her; Hannibal’s heart was racing with  anticipation . Only after hours of staring into the dark and formulating an answer that could save all their worries did Hannibal let her lashes fall against her cheeks and sleep to come over her. 

The rising sun brought Hannibal back to the present. As her eyes became used to the white light pouring in, she realized Will was clinging to her. A soft arm draped over her front, her head resting against Hannibal’s shoulder. The soft curls on Will’s head were too appealing not to stroke. Eyes blinked back into reality; widening as they remembered but cautious hands did not pull away. In fact, Will snuggled in closer to the warmth that Hannibal provided.

“Don’t let go, Hannibal.”

“I never intended to,” Hannibal whispered.

A gentle grip bringing their palms together was the only reply. The warm, comfortable silence that surrounded them was a moment in which Hannibal would have been content to live in forever.

“I have a plan but you must trust me, Will, you must do exactly as I say, alright?”

***

“ _ Where am I taking you, my Lady _ ?” The coach driver asked, doing his best not to cast his eyes upon the woman next to her.

“ _ Just to the train station. My English tutor and I are taking a trip to England to improve my skills. _ ”

The coachman only nodded before opening the door and helping the women enter.

The slight narrowing of Will’s eyes as she sat down next to her was all Hannibal needed to know how uncomfortable her beloved felt. The dress which adorned her, the makeup plastered on her face to hide the damage, the glasses to hide her blue eyes behind; all of it made Will feel as if she stuck out all the more. There was no longer a porcelain shield behind which she could hide behind. Her newly cut hair tickled at her face, but in her heed to keep up her act she was refusing to push it out from her eyes.

“I know you feel uncomfortable, my darling, but you must wear it for the time being,” Hannibal cooed, brushing the hair from Will’s forehead and tucking it behind her ear. “Once we are away, I will wash it all off.”

Hesitant to meet Hannibal’s gaze as she was wont when her stress was overcoming her, Will’s gaze wandered to outside of the carriage. There was much on her mind, but Hannibal thought it best to wait for Will to confide in her rather than to coax it out.

“Hannibal,” Her gaze was addressing only her gloved fingers. “What happens if we get caught?”

A gentle arm wrapped itself around Will’s cloaked shoulders. Despite her expression which appeared displeased, Hannibal felt her warm body lean in closer. 

“If we get caught, then we will do what we know best.”

The garter upon Hannibal’s thigh sat tight and waiting, occupied only by the sheathed dagger which Will had brought to her. It was precautionary at most: Hannibal knew she was more than capable of protecting Will with her bare hands. 

***

“They’ll look for me, isn’t it safer if you don’t come?”

Hannibal rushed her into the train carriage behind her and closed the door swiftly. Sat opposite from Will, the thin line in which her lips were pressed indicated just how unimpressed she was by such a suggestion. 

“ _ Mano mylima _ , don’t you think they’ll be looking for me too – for reasons that do not relate to you?” Hannibal soothed. “Do you really believe they would just let me run away and live the life I wish to?”

“But what of Mischa? You can’t leave him – if you are never found will he be expected to live alone believing you are missing or dead.”

“With my husband dead, Mischa is the rightful heir... Once his wife births a son, he will be able to disappear. She will be on the throne until their son is old enough to rule, Mischa’s ‘death’ will be tragic but acceptable. The Lecter name will live on in our nephew, and all three of us will be free.”

“You have it all figured out, don’t you?” Will scoffed. “But what if Mischa’s wife doesn’t agree?”

“Well, considering Margot helped us to formulate the plan, I am sure she is more than okay with it.” 

“Was this always your plan?” 

“Well, no, it was always going to be something of this sort. But I wondered if I might need to be the one to carry the child. You made sure that would not be the case.” 

“Did you love him?” 

“It depends on your definition of love. I loved that he was able to give me security in a position that I did not wish to be in. A security that I never would have been granted for the mere fact I was a woman. But I didn’t love him. Not like I do you.”

It felt only right on Hannibal’s part to pretend she did not notice the way Will seemed pained by what she was saying. A few seconds passed and Hannibal felt a tinge of pain; the expectation of rejection. 

“Does Lithuanian have a word for ‘However much I wish to scream out how I feel, I am worried just in case I am wrong?” 

“I’m afraid not.” 

“Well...” Will stuttered. “That is how I feel, I don’t know how else to explain it.” 

“You did hear what I said, yes?” She waited for Will’s head to nod and then continued. “...So, what are afraid of being wrong about?” 

“ Well, I know how I feel, but...”

“But you don’t trust me to tell you the truth?” Hannibal said with a quirked eyebrow.

“No, I don’t trust that you won’t wake up and realize what a wretched mistake you have made.”

Oh, the sad self-doubt that plagued Will. Hannibal was determined to do all she could to rid her girl of ever having another such thought.

“I wish you would take the determination that you applied to my husband’s throat as you slit it and put that into every aspect of your life.”

“Just because it is easy for you.”

“The first wasn’t so easy,” Hannibal remarked. “But it becomes fun in time.”

“Are we talking about  self-confidence or about... something else?” Red stained lips pursed together as Will spoke, the glint in Hannibal’s eyes said ‘ _ both’ _ . 

They traveled in silence for a while; Will staring out the window at the rolling hills while Hannibal thumbed through a book that Will did not know.

“After your husband, I received only nine contracts. So why is it that seventeen died? And what about the ones after you hid me away in your room? You used me as a cover for your own exploits,” Will stated. 

“Does that make you angry?” 

“It depends.” 

“On what?” Hannibal asked.

“On whether they deserved it.” 

“I find it hard to believe you did not keep up to date with the local news...” Hannibal watched the dilation of Will’s pupils. “Oh, so you did. So, you know exactly who I killed then.” 

Hannibal’s hand extended until Will’s cold fingers where they rested on her knees. With a quick movement, she interlocked their fingers. 

“And what is your judgment? Did I do well in my choices?” Hannibal implored.

Three crooked politicians, two mal-practicing doctors, a fraud of a future-seer, and a handful of abusers had been wrongly attributed to Will’s name. She could hardly argue she was sad to see the back of them. Perhaps she was even disappointed she had not been the one to take the life from them.

“You know what I will say,” Will said, meeting Hannibal’s eyes. “But I know those are not the only ones? So, what of the others?”

An insidious hunger filled Hannibal’s eyes; Will felt her cheeks warming and knew she was powerless to stop it. Hannibal was impressed, enamored by the fact that Will could see her work even when no one else did.

“You should be as confident in yourself as you are in your deductions,  _ brangjoji _ . Do you think you would have done it without the financial incentive?”

“I think you would have found a way to tempt me into it regardless. Money was the easiest route for you though, wasn’t it?”

A warm, blood-red smile showed off Hannibal’s fangs as she stared in awe at her girl. She truly was a marvel.

***

Will was much less versed in the art of physical affection than she was, but in time too came to crave Hannibal’s arms around her own. Cuddled underneath blankets by the fire with Hannibal latched to her was the safest she had ever felt.

“Do you miss your home?”

“I miss Mischa – he is my home and so are you,” Hannibal said, placing a warm kiss on her cold cheek. “What is home to you, Will?”

“I’ve never had one before now.”

“Well, we are here. You can make it into home, whatever that may be to you.”

Will made no attempt at a reply but pulled Hannibal closer to her in the seat.  _ This was home _ . 

***

“ _ Labukas _ __ _ meile _ _! _ ”

The familiar words on Will’s tongue made Hannibal’s cheeks flush; not quite the red of her lips but doing its utmost to match the shade. 

“Hello, my darling.”

“The dogs were missing you.”

“Is that your way of saying _ you  _ were missing me?”

The plump pout of Will’s lips was the only reply she gave. Before Will could say anything, Hannibal closed the space between them. Soft red lips were stained in Hannibal’s signature tint. Lips pressed together without let-up until she felt Will’s mouth curl into a smile. Before Will had a chance to pull back into her disgruntled mask, Hannibal had pulled out a package from her bag and presented it to her.

“Not something else?” Will struggled to hide the incredulous expression that was furrowing her brows.

“No need to be rude, my darling. It’s simply a gift.”

A gift, another gift. Everyday Hannibal brought home a gift, and every day Will feigned her act of annoyance until she could no longer deny her appreciation. Pulling away at the parchment which surrounded it, Will unfurled the blue frock. It was undoubtedly tailored, perhaps even the material sampled from the very blues which Hannibal used to paint her irises. It sat upon the table and looked quite out of place amongst the modest dwelling they were currently staying. Hannibal was a sight too; standing out amongst the lackluster surroundings like a diamond. And yet she was looking at Will as if she were the most illustrious beauty of all. 

As Hannibal’s head began to lull to a tune that only she could hear, Will knew it would be a waste of time to try and pull her away from this. Working quickly at the clasps of her simple house frock, she pretended not to feel the way Hannibal’s eyes were trained on her. Or the way the heat inside of her rose at the mere thought of such a gaze. 

It dropped to the floor with a quiet thud and was quickly picked up by Hannibal and thrown in the basket to be washed later. 

Over her chemise, Hannibal slipped the frock and helped Will to lace it at the front. Deft fingers had done such a task so many times before, she need not look anywhere but to the blues eyes which stated back. The final buckle fastened; Will watched as Hannibal stepped back to devour the sight. Wonder and want and joy danced within her until she was beginning to dance in a gentle sway. Her head slowly began to nod.

Despite hearing nothing at all, the twinkle in Hannibal’s eye spoke of a tune that they had heard many nights ago. The symphony that played in an evening of many firsts. The first time Will had taken a life. The first time they had met. The first time Will had fallen in love, and Will did not know that for Hannibal too felt all of it. But she could guess from her lingering gaze, her gentle kiss, her endless touch. She could guess and deduce and wonder, but for once she chose to believe. Believe instead of doubt.

“You never asked me to dance at the ball. It was the least you could have done before killing my husband.”

“Because I didn’t know how to dance.”

Will let her feet begin to sway in time to Hannibal’s silent beat, stepping towards the woman with outstretched hands. Their hands met; embracing as they were made to. Hannibal led the gentle steps that waltzed them around the room. 

“Well, now you’ll never forget.”

From outside, the dogs barked along to the unheard melody. The warmth between the two women was a palpable comfort which both refused to part from.

“As if you would let me,” Will jibed, before pulling up to kiss at Hannibal’s cheek. “ _ Aš tave  _ _ myliu _ _ , Hannibal. _ ”

“I love you too,  _ mylimoji _ . My Will.”

The music continued on; barely heard by the lovers as they lost themselves in the warmth of each other’s embrace and the pools of each other's eyes. With her head of curls resting against Hannibal’s shoulder, hands locked together, and feet in perfect step as they twirled around the kitchen, there was nowhere else they were supposed to be.

It would be many winters before Mischa finally came to join them in their home. 

The snowy Italian peaks grew red in their wait. Hannibal’s lips never without a stain of red. And Will’s lips too, as their embraces lingered longer with every passing day. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!


End file.
